WHOLESOME TALES

Chapter Two

In which Julia Dresses up as Lamb (which will teach the grumpy bitch alright!)

That night the Questers were sent to bed early as Julia thought it would be best they get going at the break of day (or around ten, it being a Sunday) and not have anyone in a tired and disagreeable mood – which no one likes on a Quest. I sure know I don’t. Not at the beginning of one anyhow before you’ve experienced things to make you grumpy. Or so it’s said. Though one should not waffle during an ostensibly exciting story, should one, as it slows the pace of things. Or so it’s said ... where was I? Oh yes...

Julia got busy with the sleeping arrangements, she being by nature a bossy freaking bitch.

Aleek, Neeek, Eldo and Rodney were put in the second best guest room, with strict instructions to not get up to the kinds of things that Julia did with fairies and hobgoblins and Scotshobbits and small furry animals – gerbils, I think – not that I’m implying Scotshobbits are gerbils - I mean back when she was more lamblike and less sheeplike.

Lance and Amarie and Azriel she sent to the first best guest room – the one that looked over Orwell’s flower beds and large collection of nymph statuettes. Lance seemed quite happy with the idea, though Amarie and Azriel insisted he sleep in the single bed and they in the double --- which one could be forgiven for thinking pleased Lance even more, until the ladies turned out the light and instead of making pleasant night sounds together began to snore uproariously.

(Dear Reader, you must excuse me a moment while I pop back and see who else I’ve included in the Quest).

Julia wisely put Davidee and Halfy in separate rooms, even though they wanted (as usual) to share a bed. You see, Julia knew that Davidee sometimes shape-shifted in the night and there was some risk of him getting stuck in Halfy’s hair (again). Luckily, Halfy was happy enough to sleep in the broom closet after a short argument with Julia (short for Julia at least). Halfy felt at home there anyway, even if he did not care very much for the feather dusters there, him being a bit of an elitist and all.

Davidee decided to bed down in the sitting room; well away from any dangerous kitchen utensils. Davidee was prone to sleep-jumping, you see. Also, he did not want to frighten the younger Questers in the dead of night, for a giant carrot jumping about in the dead of night in your bower can be quite distressing to the young and impressionable (Eldo and Rodney that is).

Ringo and Tin went and slept in a tree on Bodmin Moor (the Bodmin Moor which was just south-west of Needlehole, not the other one). What’s that? Why did they go sleep in a tree? I’m not sure, but as this is a true (fictional) tale, I only report the facts

Petty slept on the back porch under the Evenstar as wise hobbits never let him remain in their holes at night.

“Now Orwell,” Julia said at last once she had tucked in everyone and smacked Rodney for patting Aleeek and Neeek on their bottoms without being asked and trying to push Eldo out of the big brass bed they all shared. “Oh dear, dear Orwell - it seems we’ll have to share the master bedroom.” And then she fixed upon Orwell such a gaze as said, “Don’t try to get out of it Orwell. Your time has come. We’ll see if you’re truly all talk and no action as most of us think. We Forumshiran ladies have waited quite a long time to see if your self-made reputation is true at all. And the task has fallen on me. Who has killed several hobbits in the act of love making, though it wasn’t intentional. But so long as you know the risks... Anyway, come with me.” Which is a quite lot of meaning to put in one gaze, don’t you think?

And forthwith Julia the Mild grabbed Orwell by the hand - before he could hide in the grandfather clock in the hall - and escorted him swiftly to the master bedroom.

“I suppose you’ll be sleeping in the bed and me on the floor,” he squeaked without much confidence.

“Get on the bed.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“I brought along something nice to wear,” Julia told him, sounding quite pleased. “Hide your eyes. And don’t peek – or I’ll poke them out, okay!"

“Yes, Miss.”

“You can open them again now,” Julia told him a few minutes later.

“You won’t poke out my eyes will you?” Orwell squeaked.

“Open your damn eyes, damn fool!”

“Yes, Miss.”

And when Orwell – nervously – opened his eyes – and peeked between the fingers hiding his red face – he saw Julia standing before his bedroom closet, with one arm stretched out languorously so as to rest a hand on its resinous Fjordianwood timberwork, and one leg set out at a suggestive angle, and her eyes gleaming like amethysts and carbuncles (very lascivious carbuncles) and candlegleams. And she was lightly dressed in filaments and see-through materials and frills and lace which barely hid anything, or only teasingly so. Indeed, Orwell had never seen mutton dressed up so lamblike – though Orwell decided there and then that mutton wasn’t anywhere near as bad as he had reckoned hereeverbefore, and that mutton was probably quite good in a slow cooked stew or casserole after all, just as his mother had taught him...

“Orwell!”Julia complained. “i wish you’d stop all that thinking – which I’m both insulted and peculiarly complimented by – and take in the moment. Suck up the atmosphere. Tonight’s the night. What do you think of my sexy apparel? It was designed by the Sex Fairies of Aldershot you know...”

“Won’t you get a bit cold in that outfit?” Orwell asked, because, for all his macho talk and bragger, he was still a kind hearted and solicitous hobbit.

“Not for long,” she sighed in a very scary way and she instantly hurtled toward the bed and threw herself into the air.

Orwell closed his eyes and thought, “Think of England! Think of England!”

As luck would have it, Julia hit her head on the bed-head and knocked herself out cold.

After a few nervous seconds, Orwell opened his eyes a millimetre or two and saw the fair fairy maiden (loosely speaking) lying on the coverlet beside him.

“She must have been more tired than she looked,” he said with some relief. And then he cast a suddenly approving eye over her near naked form (unconscious ladies being less scary than one’s who are awake). After a thoughtful moment, he added, “She’s quite a lot like those nymph statuettes in the garden really, only slightly more filled out in places... And oh! The statuettes don’t have these rather interesting holes and wobbly bits...”

And I think we’ll leave it here for the moment, don’t you think?

To be continued...

By strange coincidence I do own a hamster !

'Orwell had never seen mutton dressed up so lamblike'

wobbly bits...”

'Julia the Mild'

' Davidee was prone to sleep-jumping',

and a big wobbly

Every time you produce that rather vulgar smilee, Mrs Figg, I have all these.... well - mental pictures.. I do wish you wouldn't....

Hey! I just figgered out I was in this thing! I'd been avoiding it since wholesome things put me off my diet, but thought I'd take a peek and am much enjoying it. Now back to the broom closet, I'm feeling sleepy....

Chapter Three
One without an actual Chapter Heading

Orwell was woken (by the sound of clanging pans in the kitchen) from a rather nice three course dream where he had enoyed some melt-in-the-mouth-lamb's-tongue as an entree, lashings of moist cabbage for the main course, followed by two wobbly jellies with cherries on top for dessert (he was just reaching for the cream jug when the pans woke him).

“I wonder where Julia has gone?” he said with some regret, for though she had taken up a lot of the bed with her outthrust limbs – and had kicked him and elbowed him in the back remorselessly – she had kept the bed warm, which he supposed was one thing a girl (however mutton-like) was good for.

He climbed out of bed and shivered. He hoped it was not going to be one of those Quests which were set in a frozen environment. I’m sure you know the ones I mean. Then he remembered it was Spring and so he must expect a chill morning or two. Oh well. Providing there were clear skies later, and the sun came out all warm and fuzzy as the day progressed, it might not be so bad. Of course, he hoped there were to be none of those unexpected chill Spring showers. The ones that bring out those Stone Giants that eat hobbits. You know the kind of showers (and giants) I mean. I’m sure you do.

“Orwell!” came Julia’s strident bad tempered voice. “Get the freakin’ ‘ell out here! Haven’t you heard what the rosebushes say about tardy hobbits?”

Orwell hadn’t heard what the rosebushes say about tardy hobbits, but he knew enough about Julia to be afraid of her, and he bounded out of bed.

Orwell did not take long to realize that the Questers had made a right royal mess of his hole, and it was quite painful to him, as I'm sure you can imagine.

“I hope you guys are going to clean up after you,” he complained loudly. “I swear half of you are college students – or worse, mature-age students!” (It was all the stolen milk crates and stale smell of pipe-weed that upset him most).

The Questers were ready to go, their backpacks laden with essentials as they saw them.

I’ll give an overview.

Amarie: Various mysterious objects she would not let anyone know about. (Though, she felt sure that whatever they were they’d become useful sometime during the Adventure);

Neek: Two pairs of stout Fjordianlandian leather knickerbockers and several changes of undies, and her copy of “Fjordianlandian Swear Words” by Eric Frigginfiskputzen, which she swore she could never live without;

Aleek: Her collection of Bob Dylan DVD’s and some Beat Poetry. (Amarie insisted she bring a shawl as well);

Azriel: Some rather lovely frocks she’d always wanted to wear but couldn’t back when she was a truck driver;

Petty: All his worldly goods (which he’d put in his sporran – as he couldn’t actually afford a backpack);

Julia: A lot of clothing actually, none of which looked particularly warm to wear, and some interesting oddments and things that made Orwell feel nervous for some reason he could not explain;

Rodney: Several photographs of naked hobgoblins, which suspiciously looked much like Neek and Aleek snapped in the girls bathroom at Hobgoblin High, though no one knew where he had got them from and he wasn’t saying;

Eldo: Lots of suitable clothing and foodstuffs and tools etcetera for a long and potentially dangerous Middle Earth quest – for he had studied such things in fine detail, which the other Questers thought a bit boring, but I’m sure will later appreciate very much considering the stupid things they had packed themselves (except what Amarie had packed, she being Motherly-wise by nature and used to thinking on behalf of little children and child-like stupid Forumshirans);

Orwell: A magazine full of nice photographs of nymphs, which he had a purely academic interest in;

Davidee: A self-waterer;

Halfy: A comb – named ‘Jezza’, who was fluent in several (Indo-European) languages and was very kind and gentle and polite, and always said, “Pardon me, I never intended you such hurt,” whenever he pulled too hard on a knot, which, of course, is what one wants in a talking comb;

Tin: The latest Musical Parody she was working on and an early script of “The Tale of Luthien and Beren”, and several pairs of jeans, t-shirts, and several handkerchiefs;

Lance: A model of a fast automobile which Julia told him to take back out of his backpack immediately, it being terribly anachronistic. He had to settle for a model of a bunny drawn sledge, which he was not altogether happy about I can tell you! But one needs to be practical and he knew that he had to take something or risk being left completely off this list and so remain in definite obscurity (like Ori and Oin in The Hobbit) and no one on a Forumshiran Quest would like that, least of all Lance I imagine;

And Ringo - who brought one tom-tom, as it was all he could fit into his backpack --- Oh sorry, he did manage to squeeze in a photo too of a close friend from the Fjordianlandian Armed Forces; Bertrand his name was, but he was just a friend.

“I think we’re more than well prepared for a long, dangerous, arduous adventure,” Julia said as she lined up the Questers outside Orwell’s hole after breakfast, while Amarie quietly fretted and went over again in her mind if she had brought enough porridge oats for everyone, breakfast being the most important meal of the day, and Eldo mentally calculated if he had brought enough handkerchiefs and bandages.

Julia then tried to make a speech. “Now we are going off on a long journey as I said --- Petty, block your ears a moment will you...”

"Wize shood aye, nock the nelly-no?"

“Block ‘em, I said!”

“Ock tha noo!” But Petty - while incredibly stupid – was not stupid enough to cross Julia (again)(at least, not this time anyway).

“Now,” Julia continued, “We are going off to rescue Odo and Wisey and Mirabella and Biffo from the clutches of the Necromancer.”

“I thought the Necromancer was just a puff of black smoke,” Lance averred. “One that couldn’t never take shape again after the events of the One Ring of Power thing...”

“He’s a Shade, alright; one that can still get fleshly creatures to do his bidding!”

“That’s so esoteric,” Aleek piped up.

“Everything’s esoteric, isn’t it, Aleek,” Orwell said rolling his eyes (as usual).

“Get fucked, Orwell,” Neek spat out with a fair quantity of Fjordianlandian spleen, her being thick as thieves with the annoying little Whelsh hobgoblin.

“Oh go and stroke your Whelshhaggises!” Orwell muttered under his breath.

“Leave our Whelshaggises out of it,” Neek glowered. “Our Whelshhaggises never did any harm to you!”

“No! Not here - and not in Straight Street, Birmingham!” Aleek interjected spitefully (and somewhat esoterically).

“Shut it, you guys! Shut it!” Julia blustered. “I’m setting you guys straight, now. I’ll have no hissy fits or fights on this Quest! Do you hear?”

“Wot did ye say, lassie?” Petty asked looking both bemused and suspicious.

“Shut it, you Scotsidiot! --- Hey! Are you listening in when I told you to block your ears?”

Petty shook his head vigorously in nervous denial, which was just as well, for Julia, while the equal of Petty in sheer brain-thickness (as everyone knows)(apparently) was not completely and utterly stupid (in all things). After giving the Scotshobbit a malevolent suspicious glare, she decided to ignore her suspicions and said, “Okay, it’s off we go then. Now, who brought the pack-ponies?”

“What pack-ponies?” asked Halfy.

Julia blinked. “Did I forget to organize you to do that, Azriel?” she asked that former gentle-hobbit.

“First I’ve heard,” Azriel replied honestly (though it was possible she might have been lying, except I know she wasn’t).

“Alright then,” Julia sighed. “Never mind; we’ll have to hoof it. Now, where’s my whip? I might need to drive from behind. Petty... Petty! PETTY!”

“Wot?”

”I’ll get you to march at the rear. I’ll be just behind you!”

To be continued....

Got a sporran dont need a backback!

And I have lots of worldy goods I'l have you know! Its just I can never get past the balrog that guards my sporran* to get to them. (I'm always forgotting my passwords).

*Its bigger on the inside, the sporran that is, not the Balrog- he's just gooey and wobbly on the inside.

Rodney's character development seems to have taken a turn for the worst!

Don't fret, Rodney, they always do!

Chapter Four
Where The Forumshire Fourteen have their first Adventure, and Eldo isn't Amused.

Rodney was chosen to lead the way, for Julia suggested they go via Bree, from where that lad had only recently arrived wide eyed and naive in the meandering ways of the Forumshiran mind. The other Dual Citizens - Davidee and Julia - were on hand, just in case the lad forgot any of the paths, tracks and alleyways, his brain being slightly smaller than that of your typical Forumshiran (which was small enough) and his remembery and his mental faculties could be quite faulty (or 'Breeish') at times.

"I hope to visit my Mother and Father, Clodnyss and Odney," he said to Aleeek who was trudging along behind him.

"They sound Whelsh," Aleeek commented. "Are they from Llddlellewllenllewdom?"

"No, from the northern parts. They're Irish."

"I know Llddlellewllenllewdom," Neeek piped up. "It's where I got my little ginger Whelshhagggis, Poopsie."

"It's where the better ones come from," opined Tin, who had not said anything yet (as far as I can remember). "A friend of a friend of mine got a tortoisehell from there. Very feisty."

"They have teeth, don't they?" asked Orwell, who wisely preferred the toothless variety.

"Don't we all," Neeek said, rolling her eyes for some ambiguous reason or other.

"Have you brought your Whelshhagis, Neeeek?" Aleeek asked.

"Yes - I have her tucked away out of sight and out of mind."

"Me too," Aleeek said and giggled.

"I should ever like to see your Whelshhaggises girls," Rodney said innocently, totally unaware that his good character was being underveloped again.

"You're from Bree, aren't you?" Neeek giggled.

"They say of Bree folk that the sun doesn't go down on Thursdays," Aleeek said.

"Yes it does!" Orwell cried - frustrated by Aleeek's silliness as usual.

"The two things I hate about Aleeek," Tin averred out of the blue, "is her esoterica and her youthfulness."

"My goodness," Amarie said. "Tin is so keen to get a say on this adventure that she's stealing Orwell's lines."

"Well, I hate her now too," Neeek bellowed. "Fucking Tin. You traitor!"

"This is a pretty peckle of pickled peppers!" Eldo said.

By now, dear reader, you might be thinking that I am struggling to come up with a decent story line, and you'd be right. But it's best to be patient. Something will come up soon enough..... Oh yes....

"Look!" Rodney cried.

Everyone formed a group on the road and followed the point of Rodney's finger.

"Isn't that the house at Crickhollow where Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin had a bath?" Davidee gasped, blushing orange with anticipation.

"It is, you know," Azriel said in her deep manly voice. "But who's that odd little hobbit working in the garden behind that gorgeous picket fence?"

"It's Chris!" Orwell squealed in excitement.

"You mean the Chris who posts such wonderful videos?" Julia gasped. "The Chris who always comes up with just the right pictures with just the right captions at just the right time? The Chris who finds articles on obscure Tolkien matters at the blink of an eye?"

"That's him!" Eldo exclaimed and clapped his hands.

"I know it's him," Ringo put in gaily. "Look at his pronounced brow where he keeps all those investigative brains of his!"

"I've put up the odd topical picture myself," Davidee said, with atinge of envy. "Doesn't anyone remember how quick I was to find those two girls with their cabbage bras?"

"Shut up, Davidee," Julia snarled. "Chris is the King of Picture Posting."

"But..."

"Shush!" Halfy nudged Davidee. "Chris posts a wide range - your bucolic vegetable stuff won't past muster put up against Chris's 'finding' abilities."

"Why didn't someone invite Chris along?" Tin wanted to know, she being the most fair minded of Forumshirans.

"We could still ask him," Orwell suggested.

"Yes, that would be nice," Amarie said with her motherly instincts kicking in. "I'll go and ask."

And so Amarie wandered over to Chris's gate. The other Questers could see the two have a chat, Amarie in her pink see-through spider-silk frock, and Chris in his vest, leggings and gumboots. After awhile, Chris turned and walked up his cute cobbled path and disappeared through the round front door of the house.

Amarie came back over.

"So, is he coming, or not?" Julia asked in her usual abrupt rude way.

"He is - he's just gone inside to get Elthir."

"Elthir!" Eldo barked in surprise.

"Yes, Eldo," Amarie told him in a kindly voice. "Elthir is likely to come as well. Elthir often goes on adventures apparently. He's always got a backpack filled with useful travelling accoutrements. He's Loremasterly in all ways."

Eldo glowered and fell silent.

"Do Chris and Elthir live together?' Lance wanted to know.

"They do," Amarie smiled. "But they're just friends, of course."

"Here they come," Azriel said, her Adam's Apple rolling happily up and down in her throat as she spoke. "Oh what an exciting turn up for the books."

"Oh dear!" Orwell said happily too. "We've had our first adventure. Hurrah!"

And everyone cheered - except for Eldo for some reason.


to be continued....

Im still loving it, youve got a great sense of humour & imagination ! The bit about the pack ponies... I do still have my hamster ? wont that do ? we could have "Hammy sleds" ? mind you,they dont carry much.,unless you hitch them up as a team ?!

I'll mention it to Anon if you like Azriel.

''They have teeth, don't they?"

“Ock tha noo!” But Petty - while incredibly stupid – was not stupid enough to cross Julia (again)(at least, not this time anyway).

http://s1276.beta.photobucket.com/user/azriel59/media/mdhc5ZtqUCp2YVScJwZxdGg_zpsd9ab994c.jpg.html?sort=3&o=0
I hope Ive got this right !?
If I have, is this how you see "Azriel,the gender bender" ?
If I havnt got it right........oops
( I can catergoricaly state that this isnt me! I wapped it off Ebay)

where IS that Orwell? I want to know what happens on our Quest.

NEEK the sweary Ffyordlandian Hobgoblin fairy

ALEEK the Eoseteric (however the bugger you spell it) Welshhaggis hobgoblin fairy

Julia the (not so) mild fairy

I like the above fairies

Cuties with personality. Happy sigh.

You not got a pic of the faery in chief Mrs Figgs- Orwell.